Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Gabon and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Faust,
The Red Krayola,
Soft Cell,
Blake Baxter,
Inner City,
Essential Logic,
Crispy Ambulance,
Unwound,
Parry Music,
Newcleus,
Lou Christie,
The Beau Brummels,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Aswad,
Godley & Creme,
The Gladiators,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scientists,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
T. Rex,
The Vogues,
L. Decosne,
Camberwell Now,
Roy Ayers,
DNA,
Boz Scaggs,
Minor Threat,
Henry Cow,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Negative Approach,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Terry Callier,
Alphaville,
The Residents,
Sister Nancy,
Goldenarms,
Sound Behaviour,
Alice Coltrane,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Soul II Soul,
E-Dancer,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Todd Rundgren,
Dave Gahan,
Rites of Spring,
Bob Dylan,
Brand Nubian,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joe Smooth,
The Electric Prunes,
48th St. Collective,
The Saints,
Marc Almond,
Mary Jane Girls,
Toni Rubio,
Grauzone,
Funkadelic,
Black Moon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobby Byrd,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.